


Fun with Forearms

by starhawk2005



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, Het, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun with Forearms

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: House and Cam don’t belong to me. Neither does the Whiteboard.  
> Special thanks to: katakombs and enchanted_april for the beta’ing.

Summer at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital definitely had its disadvantages, and one was a lack of consistent climate control. The lab areas were so highly air-conditioned that Allison often found herself freezing, even with her lab coat on. And now, here in the Diagnostic Medicine conference room with Chase and Foreman and House, it was the exact opposite. Boiling hot.

Eric and Chase, sitting with her at the table, had both shed their lab coats sometime earlier, and occasionally mopped at their brows between shooting rapid-fire suggestions at their scowling boss. She stubbornly kept her lab coat on, but as the seconds ticked by and the sweat crept down her sides, she began to think that everyone had the right idea. Even _House_ had stripped down, after all. His blazer tossed carelessly over a chair, his blue button-down rolled up to the elbows. And no tee-shirt underneath, either. And yet, he was _still_ sweating.

And therein lay the problem.

Allison tried to focus on the case at hand, and managed to give House a few suggestions for likely diagnoses, but her mind kept wandering. She didn’t know what it was, exactly – she’d certainly seen House with his sleeves rolled up before – but something about his bare forearms, the muscles flexing as he scribbled on the board, the way the skin of his forearms and at his partially unbuttoned collar glistened a little with sweat (and, was that chest hair she was seeing?) made her clench her thighs together and wish that she was home, naked, in front of her AC unit. _Or, in bed with my 9-inch vibrator,_ she thought.

As the minutes crawled by with agonizing slowness, it was getting even harder to concentrate, her eyes almost of their own accord watching House’s hands and forearms whenever his back was to them. As well as letting her gaze trace along the little bit of chest that was revealed by his opened shirt, whenever he turned back to face them. She was glad of the file folder in her lap, covering the repeated clenching of her legs as her arousal continued to increase. _How he’d insult me, if he knew what was going through my mind right now,_ she berated herself.

She was jerked rudely from her non-worksafe thoughts as House started handing out the assignments to the team. “Chase, Foreman,” he said, snagging his cane from where he’d hung it on the whiteboard, and starting to twirl it. “Do the usual battery of blood tests, and run a tox screen while you’re at it.” As Allison got to her feet to join the others, however, House locked his intense gaze on her and said, “Not _you_ , Cameron. We need to have a little _talk_.”

As Eric and Chase made their escape, Allison felt herself swallowing convulsively, her eyes again inadvertently dropping to House’s bare forearms, watching the play of muscles as he twirled the cane around and around, and she sat back down at the table uncomfortably. _Great,_ just _what I needed right now, a little one-on-one time with House…_ she took a few deep breaths, trying even harder now to calm her arousal, her anxiety that he might figure out what was going on with her. Trying not to twist ‘one-on-one-with-House’ into lewd and completely unrealistic mental images, trying to ignore the dampness gathering between her thighs…and watching in confusion as House limped around the room, closing the blinds.

When he started locking the doors – both the main one leading into the hallway, _and_ the one connecting his office to the conference room – she started to feel even more nervous. What was he up to?

House limped slowly back to the table, and then sat down right across from her, his gaze burning into hers. He leaned on the table, propping his forearms on it, and her eyes involuntarily dropped to them once again, as she tried not to squirm in her seat.

“Dr. Cameron,” he said, suddenly using a low voice that made her quiver in places unwise to mention, “You seem to be in some difficulty.” He folded his arms in front of himself, letting the fingertips of one hand stroke leisurely over his own forearm, and Allison felt a blush creeping slowly up her neck.

She had to get out of here, before she disgraced herself. “I’m _fine_ , Dr. House.” So saying – _lying_ – she started to get up.

His right hand immediately shot out, grasping her left wrist firmly, and preventing her escape. She couldn’t help gasping a little, at the warmth and strength of his hand. She also noticed how his eyes were sweeping up and down the length of her body, taking in and cataloguing _everything_. It made her wonder what he was seeing. Her blush? The sweat she could feel gathering at her temples? Her rapid breathing? Could he feel how fast her pulse was going, under his callused hand? She had to fight the urge to squeeze her thighs together yet again. His grip wasn’t that tight, she could’ve pulled free and left…but she found herself unable to do so, somehow. Instead, she sat back down.

“Did I say that you could leave yet, Dr. Cameron?” he asked, a note of command in his low voice. “I did _not_.”

She had to find a way to distract him from her condition, to get away somewhere, where she could cool down and cool off. “Please, Dr. House, I-“

He cut her off, his eyes gleaming. “Quiet.” He cocked his head, considering, and then let go of her wrist, her skin tingling and warm where he’d touched her. “Open your lab coat. We can’t have you spontaneously combusting, can we? Bad publicity for our department.”

The purring note in his voice made her arousal jump up another notch, and in a daze, she did as he said. Her lab coat was already mostly unbuttoned, so she undid the last two buttons and pulled it open a bit.

“More.” he said, that note of command even stronger, now.

She complied, pulling it even more open. And then, glancing down at herself, she realized why he’d _really_ wanted her to. She’d worn a sheer bra and a light blouse today, and her nipples, hard and erect, were clearly visible under the thin fabric. She jerked her eyes back up to his face, her suspicions confirmed when she saw that House’s gaze was indeed locked on her breasts, taking in this evidence of her arousal. He licked his lips and looked back up at her face, and she felt her skin flushing, her panties becoming suddenly much wetter than before.

“Better.” he said curtly. And then he sat back, stretching his arms out in front of him, fingertips drawing small intricate patterns on the table, and she could almost feel them drawing small teasing circles around her throbbing nipples. Which was no doubt what he had intended, his face now wearing a lecherous smirk as she glanced at his face again.

He’d definitely noticed her watching the movements of his fingers. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Dr. Cameron?” he asked, his voice even lower than before, the purring note in it making her right hand clench in her lap, her palm leaving a sweaty mark on the blue cover of the file folder. “You’d _like_ me to touch you.”

Suddenly angry _and_ aroused, she ground out. “But you _won’t_. Can I go now?”

“No.” he said, leaning forward again, his voice hardening. “And besides,” he added, that sultry note back in his voice, “Who says I have to _touch_ you, to give you what you want?”

“I don’t understand you,” Allison said.

“Yes, you _do_ ,” he contradicted her. “Which is why you’re still sitting there, instead of prancing down the hallway with your fellow Ducklings.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Although, she was starting to think that she _did_ understand…

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes.” He licked his lips again, slowly and deliberately, eyes locked once more on her face. “Would you like it if I ripped open that pretty blouse of yours? If I teased those tight little nipples through your bra, like _this_?” He let his index finger trace small, easy circles on the tabletop between them.

She gasped, feeling the heat increase between her thighs. “What are you-?”

He went on as if she’d said nothing at all, his molten hot gaze still on her face. “You’re _trembling_ , Dr. Cameron. How interesting. Would you shake even more, I wonder, if I pulled those lovely breasts out of your bra and started sucking on your nipples?” He licked his lips yet again, eyes now raking hungrily across her chest.

She had to close her eyes, unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer. She could still, of course, have gotten up and left…but something kept her still in her seat.

“Of course, that would just be the _appetizer_ ,” House went on, his low rasping voice holding a caressing note to it, and she could practically _feel_ his hands skimming over her body. “I’ll bet there’s other places you’d like me to suck on, to _taste_. Isn’t that right, Dr. Cameron?”

She licked her dry lips, eyes still squeezed shut, wanting him to stop, but wanting him to continue at the same time. She was soaked with sweat under her lab coat by now, and the pulsing ache between her thighs was getting more and more insistent by the minute. Although, a small part of her realized, even as most of her thought processes became more and more incoherent, that just as he was teasing her this way, surely her reactions were arousing _him_ , teasing _him_ in return?

“I’ll bet you’d like it if I undid your pants, too. If I took them off you and started stroking your luscious white thighs. If I tore your panties off. Would that make you even _hotter_ , Dr. Cameron?”

She couldn’t stand it any longer, sliding her hand under the file folder in her lap and unzipping her pants. She worked her fingers swiftly into her underwear, seeking out her throbbing node, as she tried to cool the raging fire his words had kindled in her. She felt surprisingly little shyness at the thought of what she was doing in front of her boss - the activities of her hand were hidden under the folder in her lap, and thus House couldn’t actually _see_ what she was doing, after all, although she was _sure_ he’d figure it out, observant person that he was – and besides, wasn’t this another way to tease him, to make _him_ as hot and bothered as he’d made _her_?

“That’s _it_ , Allison. Imagine me touching you there. I’ll bet you’re all hot and wet for me. I’ll bet you taste _sweet_. Don’t you?”

She didn’t – couldn’t – answer him, just pushed two fingers deep inside her soaked opening, while also pressing the palm of her hand hard, rhythmically, against her clit. She kept her eyes still shut tightly. Her desire to tease him had not lessened, but she didn’t want to watch House dissect her as she climaxed…

His voice was pitched even lower, but she was still able to hear him, despite the rising tide of the blood pounding in her ears. “You’d like it if I got inside you, wouldn’t you, Allison? If I slipped two or three fingers into you. Can you feel my mouth on you, tasting you, teasing you? Are you _enjoying_ this?”

There was no turning back now. She arched, letting her head loll backwards, as her orgasm drowned her, a sky-blue wave exactly the colour of House’s eyes...

Gasping, her body so hot it was a wonder that she didn’t melt into a formless puddle on the floor, she finally opened her eyes. House was watching her, again taking everything in, but his face was now curiously blank. Silently, he pushed himself up off the chair, grabbing his cane, and limped over to the counter behind her.

“You’re _so_ very beautiful when you’re losing control,” she heard him say, in that low voice, behind her.

She didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t even know what to _feel_. Embarrassed? Angry? Content?

She resolved to try to figure that out later – when she was away from House’s influence – and waited a few moments for her heart to slow, for her breathing to quiet down. She rose lethargically to her feet, mopping at her brow with her sleeve, and then reluctantly stripped off her lab coat, to help with the cooling-off process. Luckily, given the heat levels in some of the rooms at PPTH today, no one would likely question the dark sweat stains on her blouse…

She couldn’t keep herself, however, from turning and looking at House, even as she warned herself that he’d either make a snide remark, or just ignore her. But instead she turned to find him looking at her intently, his eyes making another sweep up and down her body. And she was gratified to discover that he _was_ aroused, an obvious erection bulging at the crotch of his jeans. _Guess my attempt to tease_ him _worked_ , she thought.

“Your hand is blue.” he informed her. Still trying to order her thoughts, she glanced down at her hand, realizing that her sweaty palm had indeed picked up some dye from the blue file folder she’d been holding in her lap. _Gee, I hope that doesn’t mean my vagina is_ also _blue, now,_ she thought to herself, shaking her head inwardly.

Bracing herself, she walked up next to House, washing her hands in the sink. So, he was just going to pretend that _nothing_ had happened? _Typical_ , she thought.

But then he moved behind her, leaning in and over her shoulder, and she felt an answering throb inside herself all over again, despite the fact she’d just gotten off rather spectacularly mere moments ago.

“Come over tonight.” he said, surprising her. “We’ll see what we can do to make sure you don’t _overheat_ at work again,” he added.

She barely had time to feel an inner thrill of victory, before he limped away, back towards the whiteboard.

“So,” he continued, not waiting for her answer, and quite obviously back in ‘professional mode’, “back to the patient at hand, go and test for…whatever _you_ thought it was.”

“OK, Dr. House,” she answered, giving him a small smile and walking to the door.

“And,” he said, stopping her before she could unlock and push the door open, “if anyone asks, tell them we were arguing about your obsessive need to sort my mail. Conscientious and overly-nice Duckling that you _are_ ,” he added sarcastically.

“Yes, Dr. House.” she answered him. And she left the conference room, reflecting that things were likely to get a bit more interesting around PPTH, from here on in.

 


End file.
